Huntress
by artyfan
Summary: The day without a near end, the day with the sun that simply would not set. She was deceitful, angry, lethal, but she was still life.


**Hey, everyone. I found this in my files when I was clearing out my folders. Didn't edit much. Thought you might want to hear my mindless ramblings. This is kind of disconnected, so tell me if it's too bad.**

The Huntress stared at her reflection in the glassy lake. The moon gave her all the light she needed to see. The slightly upturned nose, the bronze skin. Full, pink lips. Calm, dark eyes. The entire heart shaped face framed by dark curls.

For two thousand years, she had walked alone. A testament to who she was, how destined she was to wander, that her closest friend was no mortal, or half blood, or nymph, but a goddess. The goddess that had given her everything, most importantly the trust she had not earned.

Who else would trust her? And why would they? She had put infatuation ahead of blood, betraying her own family for someone she herself had had no reason to trust.

The silvery light cast a glow on her skin. She forced her gaze away from the reflection that captivated her, glancing up at the sky. At the moon she served, at the stars she loved so much.

Sun, moon, stars, dark, light, rising, setting. She had seen it all in her life, save for the setting sun. She hadn't seen a true sunset, not since she has joined her goddess's Hunt. Nor had she seen a sun rise. No, she had lost her chance to see such a thing when she had accepted her Lady's offer. A sunset she might see soon enough. But a sunrise? Never again.

She and her sisters had been the nymphs of sunset. Sunset had always been a part of her. Their garden had always been at its most beautiful at sunset. Now it meant all the more to her, now that she saw it so much more rarely.

She would have seen it far more often, have it be simultaneously less devastating and have it mean much more to her. Now she both missed it and feared it.

She had joined Artemis a mere week after her betrayal. She had learned archery and hunting at the goddess's knee, abandoning her own magic. The most she had done after leaving her family was hum the occasional spell to calm her wolves.

_Betrayal._

It was an ugly word. She had betrayed her own family.

She had helped a mortal hero trick her own father. A mortal hero. She was nothing more than a traitor.

She had been running when she had met Artemis. Running and crying.

_She fell, a cry escaping her lips. She sat up, blinded by tears. Where was she?_

_Choking back a sob, she reached to her foot. She pulled the thorn from her heel with a shaking hand, gasping in pain. A bead of blood welled up. She wiped it off, staring at it, her deep brown eyes clouded. Her blood was certainly thinner than water. She had put a hero before her father._

_She looked up at the dark sky. The moon was full. Her fast breathing calmed, but her tears did not cease. The moonlight was startlingly bright. Beautiful._

"_Wonderful, isn't it?" a soft voice murmured. The teenage girl whirled around. Another stood behind her, perhaps twelve. She was dressed for hunting, a bow and quiver strapped across her back. The seated girl inhaled sharply. She knew who this was..._

_She knelt before her. "Lady Artemis."_

_The goddess touched her companion's shoulder. "Rise, please."_

They had spoken for what had felt like hours. Her tears had finally dried. And then the goddess had posed the question...

_Artemis surveyed the girl speculatively. "Tell me. Would you like to learn the ways of the Huntress at my side?"_

"_You would...you would teach me?"_

_That had been the first time she had seen Artemis smile._

She hadn't cried since that day. Not one tear had traced its way down her face for two thousand years. What was it? Pride? Or just time, numbing old wounds and stopping new ones from hurting quite as much?

Every time she heard her last name, she winced. _Nightshade..._

It reminded her of all she had done. How she had betrayed her family for the sake of a hero she had become enthralled with. Her last name was a flower that represented deception, anger, death.

Rather contrary was her first name, a name she rather liked. _Zo__ë._

Life.

She wasn't a traitor. She wasn't deceitful. She was loyal to her Hunters. She kept them alive.

_They would stay alive under her guidance,_ Zoë Nightshade vowed to herself, _until the day her sun set._


End file.
